


Storm Clouds

by ArchOfImagine, hufflecas



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cheating, Infidelity, M/M, Supernatural and J2 Big Bang Challenge 2015, Travel, pilot!Jensen, travel writer!Misha, unhappy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4210476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchOfImagine/pseuds/ArchOfImagine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflecas/pseuds/hufflecas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is a pilot in a serious relationship with Jared — the young mayor of a town outside of Austin. Because of his career, Jared is completely in the closet and their relationship is a big secret. Jensen is tired of it all - Jared's controlling attitude, dominance in the bedroom, and the fact that he has to pretend to be a roommate while Jared 'dates' a woman. It's these annoyances that have him falling for a pair of sad blue eyes in Boston. Having just attended his uncle's funeral, Misha is a bubbling mess that even breaks down during sex and cries. But there's something about him and his easy going demeanor that pulls Jensen in — and has him following the other man to Thailand for a month.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's our contribution for the 2015 [Supernatural and J2 Big Bang Challenge](http://spn-j2-bigbang.livejournal.com/)!
> 
> [Masterpost on LJ](http://spn-j2-bigbang.livejournal.com/452977.html)
> 
> [Art masterpost](http://fiercelynormal.livejournal.com/77096.html)
> 
>  
> 
> Many thanks to our fabulous artist [Fiercelynormal](http://fiercelynormal.livejournal.com/) for her collaboration, her patience, and her wonderful art!

_”Ladies and Gentleman, this is your captain speaking, we would like to welcome you aboard this Aria Airlines flight 168 with non-stop service from Bergstrom International to Boston. Our flight time today will be around three hours and fifty minutes, and we’re expecting clear skies. Once again, we thank you for flying with us today and please enjoy your flight.”_

\---

\---

With a rolling suitcase click-clacking behind him, Jensen made his way through Logan International Airport. Boston was probably one of his favorite locations to fly in to. The airport was beautiful, the runway was a breeze, and the city just oozed old-school cool. That was the main reason behind making sure he had an eighteen hour layover whenever he had to fly there. He needed ample time to check out his favorite restaurant. Because, really — nothing beat fresh New England seafood.

“They got you set up at the Embassy?”

He glanced to his right, at his co-pilot Ty. “Yeah. Thought about splurging and staying downtown but the Embassy is nice enough for a few hours. You wanna hit up the Crab Shack with me later?”

“Nah.” Ty shook his head. “You know I have a hook-up in Boston, man.”

Of course. Ty had a ‘hook-up’ in every city, it seemed. 

Jensen shrugged, as they walked out the main doors of the airport up to the cab stand. “Whatever floats your boat, man.”

They shared a cab to the hotel and separated once their rooms had been assigned. Jensen could handle Ty, but only in small doses. On the plane it was fine — they were so focused on work that there was no time for gossiping about Ty’s conquests. Even if Jensen were into women, he wasn’t sure he could handle hearing about how amazing all that sex was on a daily basis. Jensen preferred privacy over bragging. 

He tossed both his bags on the large king-sized bed and quickly changed into something more comfortable than his uniform. Once he was wearing his favorite jeans and a worn out Texas Tech shirt, he grabbed the keycard and left the room again. It was still early for dinner, but the Crab Shack was normally packed full during the dinner rush and he wasn’t in the mood for crowds. 

After stuffing himself on crab legs and steamer clams, Jensen took another taxi back to his hotel. He wasn’t ready for bed, though, and he had enough free time before his next flight to reward himself with one drink, so he made his way to the hotel bar instead of up to his room. 

He was one sip into a whiskey sour when he noticed a pair of shockingly blue eyes a few barstools down. God, he was such a sucker for blue eyes…

Jensen shook his head and pulled his phone from his pocket. One more check for messages left him feeling the same way — empty. “Damn it,” he whispered.

He tapped at the iPhone’s screen. _’I miss you.’_

Once upon a time the response would have been immediate.

Once upon a time.

He took another swallow of his drink and stole a second glance at Blue Eyes. In front of the other man were _three_ empty tumblers, and it was only a moment later before a fourth was set down next to them. Apparently the guy was dealing with his own heartache. No one drank like that for fun.

The man, seemingly remembering that he was in a bar, glanced up, and took in his surroundings. He met Jensen’s eyes — and didn’t look away. Jensen raised his glass in a silent salute to the other man. 

It took only a couple of minutes before suddenly the empty barstool next to Jensen was filled. He glanced to his left and smiled. “Hey.”

“I hope you don’t mind that I took the eye contact as an invitation,” the man said, looking into his glass before taking a drink, “but drinking alone is only acceptable for so long.” He held out his hand. “I’m Misha.”

He shook the offered hand. “Jensen.” He drained the last of his drink and motioned for the bartender to get him another. His second would have to be his last, unfortunately. Even if he was still a long way from drunk, there was no way he could fly the next day after too much alcohol. If something happened he would never forgive himself. “Vacation or business?”

Misha huffed a short laugh. “Neither. My uncle died. Although, I suppose you could say, family business, and a vacation from… something. I don’t know. I’m a little drunk.”

Jensen reached over to pick up Misha’s glass and brought it to his nose to sniff lightly. When he set it back down, he nodded. “Four Jack and Cokes will do that to you.” 

“You’ve got a good nose,” Misha said, leaning closer than one might expect of a relative stranger. “The other things on your face are good, too.”

A tingle brushed down his spine. “Thanks. I’m quite partial to them myself.” He finished off his new drink and twisted on the barstool to face Misha head on. “I have a room upstairs.”

“Those,” Misha said, “are beautiful words.” He signalled to the bartender that he wanted to settle his tab, and then knocked back the last inch of his drink. “Ready when you are.”

They each paid for their drinks and then Jensen motioned for Misha to follow him towards the elevator. Once they were enclosed in the car and on their way to the proper floor, he scratched at the back of his neck. “I don’t usually… do this.”

“I do,” Misha said, standing so close that he practically had Jensen backed up against the wall. “Does that put you off at all?”

Jensen snorted and shook his head. “I work with a lot of … ‘open-minded people’ — nothing puts me off anymore.” He reached up to slowly brush his thumb along the dark circles beneath Misha’s eyes. “As long as I’m your focus tonight.”

Misha reached up and pulled Jensen’s hand down just enough so he could suck one of Jensen’s fingers into his mouth. Misha held the stare between them until the elevator stopped the door slid open behind them. “This must be our stop.”

“Yeah,” Jensen managed with a shiver. He gripped Misha’s hand and pulled him slowly to the right side of the hall where his room was. Thankfully Ty’s room was on another floor — he did _not_ want rumors to be drifting around the plane tomorrow. A quick swipe of the keycard and they were stepping into his room. “This is me.”

“It’s nice,” Misha said, not taking his eyes off Jensen. “So,” he kicked his shoes off once he’d seen Jensen do the same, “who’s going to make the first move?”

Jensen moved over to the bed to move aside his suitcase and uniform. Once he had placed both on the dresser, he searched through his bag for the lube and a condom. Items in hand, he threw them on the bed and looked back at Misha. “Are you a top or a bottom?”

Misha ignored the question, instead fixating on Jensen’s pilot uniform. “That’s nice — what do I have to do to get you to wear it for me?”

“Wear what?” He turned and noticed the uniform. With a laugh, he shook his head. “Got a pilot kink, do you? You want me to wear the uniform while I fuck you?”

“Is that what you do?” It was easy to hear that Misha was impressed. “You’re a pilot?”

“Yeah,” Jensen nodded. “I’m here on an overnight. Fly out tomorrow afternoon.”

“Well,” Misha said, moving close to Jensen again. “Then we’ll just have to make tonight count, won’t we? Also, my answer is yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, you should wear it while you fuck me.”

It was kinkier than he usually went for, but maybe the differences would make him forget home. “Alright.” He grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head. “But if you want the whole shebang, you’re going to have to ride me. I’m not very flexible in this thing.” Shirt placed on his suitcase, he began undoing his jeans and taking them off.

Jensen had just kicked away his boxer-briefs and was about to grab the uniform pants when Misha’s hand reached out to grab his arm. “On second thought, now that I’m seeing the full… _package_ , I’m thinking it’d be a shame to cover it back up.” 

“You sure?” 

Misha nodded and spun Jensen around so they were face to face. He gripped Jensen’s face and a second later they were kissing wet and sloppy. Misha’s lips were whiskey-sweet and his tongue hot and insistent. His other hand travelled down Jensen’s back, stopping to squeeze his ass and pull their hips close together. Misha was hard as a rock.

They half-walked, half-fell onto the bed together, Jensen on top, and what followed was a frantic removal of Misha’s clothes and more furious kissing. Misha made for where the lube had landed, popping open the cap and slicking up his hand. He reached down between his legs and began opening himself up.

“Fuck,” Jensen breathed, half in awe of the man beneath him. “You really need it, don’t you?”

“It’s been a hell of a day,” Misha said breathlessly. “Now are you going to fuck me or not?”

Jensen wasn’t sure anyone could adequately prep themselves that fast, so he grabbed the condom in one hand to avoid any arguments. But he took his time, kissing Misha, licking down his neck, biting at his nipples. Finally, when he looked down and saw the man pumping three fingers in and out of himself Jensen asked, “You ready for me?”

“Incredibly.”

He ripped open the condom and slid it down his length as Misha withdrew his fingers, and squirted more lube both onto himself and Jensen’s cock. He jerked Jensen a couple of times quickly, before laying back on the bed. Misha spread his legs wide for Jensen, stretching his arms behind his head so that his whole body was on display. Jensen got in close, letting Misha’s ankles wrap around his back and lining his cock up with Misha’s hole. He pushed in slowly, but bottomed out in one slick movement.

The feeling of being buried balls deep in Misha was overwhelming, to say the least. Jensen was trying so hard not to give into the feeling that he kept squeezing his eyes shut. When he blinked them open the next time, he frowned. What he hadn’t noticed while he was enjoying the tight heat wrapped around his cock, was that Misha had wet tear tracks stemming from the corners of his eyes. 

Jensen froze immediately, panic creeping through his bloodstream. “Did I hurt you? What’s wrong? You should have said something, Mish!”

The other man shook his head, “No it’s… it’s not you.”

 

Misha started to argue, but Jensen pulled away anyways. He tossed the condom aside and stretched out along Misha’s side, head supported by his right hand. “Tell me what’s going on. Is it your uncle?”

Those blue eyes that had roped him in at the bar were now glistening with more tears and it tore at Jensen’s heart. How had a one-night-stand turned into Jensen wanting to cuddle a practical stranger while he cried?

“He was only forty-eight. His kids are ten and eight and they’ll never know their father and _fuck_ every time I think about it, my heart starts to hurt a little more.” Misha bit his bottom lip as the tears started to fall a little easier. “It was a brain aneurysm. No warning, no goodbye, just boom — gone.”

Jensen lent forward to place soft kisses along Misha’s neck, and pulled a blanket up over the both of them. “We’ve got time, Mish. Tell me about your uncle.”

\---

\---

_’Miss you too. Super busy this week. You back today?’_

Jensen shut his phone back off and turned to look at the man stretched out in his bed. His handsome face was half-pressed into the pillow and strands of dark hair were standing up every which way. Jensen let his eyes roam over the muscled form that lay prone under rumpled blankets. He hadn’t seen as much of that body as he’d wanted to so he had to let his imagination fill in the blanks. It went to show just how often he did the whole ‘one-night-stand’ thing — he hadn’t even gotten off with the guy. But he couldn’t help feeling connected on some level with Misha. After the drunken talk about the other man’s uncle, they had started comparing travel stories. 

Misha, as an editor for a travel magazine, seemed to have had even more insane experiences than Jensen had — which was saying a lot. Understanding even a modicum of the craziness his schedule brought into his life made for an instant camaraderie not easily come by.

Jensen didn’t realise how intently he’d been staring at Misha until the other man began to stir. He lay back, assuming what he hoped was a casual pose.

“Is not gonna work,” Misha mumbled, voice heavy with sleep.

He frowned. “What’s not going to work?”

“Pretending you weren’t just staring at my awesome body.”

Jensen rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Was just contemplating how badly we suck at the casual-sex-with-a-stranger thing.”

Sitting up slowly, Misha scratched at his already messy hair and shook his head. “It was good until I lost it. You were good. I would… maybe after coffee? Again?”

“I, uh, yeah.” Jensen ran over his schedule in his head. “I’ve got a few hours before I need to be somewhere. You?”

Misha turned to look at the clock beside the bed. “My flight leaves at 5:15 this evening.”

“Yeah? Where are you flying to?”

“Los Angeles. Layover in Austin.”

With a smirk, Jensen shook his head. “I think I’m flying that plane to Austin.”

The smile eased its way onto Misha’s face as he pulled himself into a sitting position and crawled onto Jensen’s lap. “Lucky me.”

“How d’you figure?”

Misha took one of Jensen’s hands in his own and guided it to where his cock was growing hard in his boxers. “I know I’m in good—” he gave a soft gasp as Jensen tightened his grip slightly, “—hands.”

“Fuck,” Jensen gasped, stroking Misha through his shorts as he shifted his hips up to let his own hard cock brush along Misha’s ass. “What happened to the need for coffee?”

“It has,” Misha said, leaning forward to suck at Jensen’s exposed neck, “been shuffled down the list of priorities.”

Reaching a hand out, Jensen fumbled without looking at the bedside table until he triumphantly held up the bottle of lube. “Ditch the shorts, I want to watch you open yourself up for me. Properly, this time.”

A rumble escaped out of Misha’s throat as he planted one more kiss under Jensen’s jaw and eased himself free to peel off his underwear. He settled onto his back beside Jensen, giving his own cock a few cursory tugs, hunger plain in his eyes.

Jensen reached over to slap at Misha’s hand. “I didn’t say you could do that. Now open that ass up for me while I find another condom.”

“Oh, he’s bossy,” Misha said, grinning. He picked up the lube from where it lay and squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers, letting it warm a moment before he reached down between his legs.

His attention was pulled away from his search for a condom as he stood and stared at the glorious sight before him. _Holy shit._ “That’s fucking hot, Mish.” He reached into the open compartment on his suitcase and pulled out another condom before walking back to the bed. 

Misha was wasting no time, and had two fingers pumping in and out of himself with fair ease. “We didn’t get very far last night,” he said, biting his bottom lip. “We need to change that—” he closed his eyes as a _third_ finger breached his hole, “—really fucking soon.”

Tossing the condom wrapper aside, Jensen rolled the latex down over his hard cock and reached for the lube that Misha had tossed aside. Once his cock was slick, he sat back down in the spot where he’d been earlier and smirked. “Come on, then. I liked seeing you straddling my cock, so why don’t you do it again?”

“Want me to ride you?” Misha said, withdrawing his fingers.

Jensen nodded.

Misha sat up and eased a knee on the other side of Jensen’s hips, shifting forward so the head of Jensen’s cock sat firmly nudged between the cheeks of Misha’s ass. He stared down at Jensen from his position above him, his bright blue eyes both challenging and pleading at the same time.

Jensen curled his hands over the angles of Misha’s hipbones and let his head fall back with a groan as he felt tight heat surrounding his cock once more. “Fuck you feel so fucking good.” He thrust up in one swift move to bury his cock completely, causing Misha to let out a sharp grunt. “I could get used to this.” His right hand moved up, tweaking Misha’s nipple before laying over the pulse point on his neck and pulling him down for a rough kiss.

Misha licked into Jensen’s mouth, rolling his hips and grinding himself down onto Jensen’s cock. “Yeah?” he said, more casual in tone than his flushed face and lust-blown eyes would allude to. “When’s the next time you’re gonna be in L.A.?”

“You expect me to—” he groaned, “—remember my flight schedule, when you’re squeezing my cock like that?”

Misha tensed his muscles once again and Jensen thought he was going to black out.

“What,” he said, leaning back to leverage himself on his knees, and pulling off far enough to slam back down again. “You can’t multi-task?”

“Shit,” he mumbled, grasping Misha’s hips so hard he was probably leaving bruises. “Mon… Monday of next week.”

“Monday works for me,” Misha grunted. “I still need to see you in your uniform.” He let the conversation drop and focused instead on riding Jensen’s cock. “Fuck, you feel good.”

“You know… pilots have access to an executive bathroom at LAX. You find a reason to fly out that day and I could fuck you in the bathroom wearing the full get up.”

That was apparently the right thing to say, because instead of replying with something witty or scathing, Misha’s body tensed up. He arched his back, hands scrabbling in the sheets behind him as he came — virtually untouched — and striped Jensen’s stomach white.

Jensen wasn’t sure he had ever seen something so hot. The whole scene before him, plus the feeling of Misha clenching down on his cock, was enough to send him over the edge as well. He slammed forward one last time and cried out as he came. In the aftermath, voice shaky and barely more than a gasp, he whispered, “You… I’ve never… seen anyone do that in real life.”

There was no mistaking the look of pride that washed over Misha’s face, even as he tried to play it off like nothing impressive. “I’ve been told I have a ‘sensitive prostate,’” he said, employing his hands to quote for emphasis. He climbed off of Jensen’s softening cock and collapsed on the bed beside him.

“I would say that’s definitely true. Now I need a shower.” Jensen groaned and slowly forced himself to sit up. “Wanna join me?”

“Oh, hell yes.”

\---

\---

The flight home seemed to go a lot slower than normal, but that was probably due to the fact that he knew what was waiting for him in Austin. As he stood next to the plane door and thanked the passengers leaving the flight, he couldn’t help but watch each face for the piercing blue eyes from that morning.

Then Misha was there, carrying a worn-out backpack and smiling as soon as he met Jensen’s eyes. He reached out to shake Jensen’s hand and said cheerfully, “Thanks for the flight, Captain.”

When his hand pulled away and Misha stepped off the plane, Jensen looked down to see a torn piece of paper in his hand. He unfolded the paper and smiled at the phone number scribbled in blue ink… right beside a ridiculously drawn penis with legs and a face. He quickly tucked the note away in his pocket and finished saying goodbye to the passengers before stepping back into the cockpit to finish his post-flight paperwork. 

It was another fifteen minutes before he had his bag and was walking off the plane, Ty following along beside him and making conversation about dinner options for that evening. 

Dinner was the least of Jensen’s worries.

Once he left the terminal and walked out to where his car was parked in the employee lot, he finally felt the weight of the world settling on his shoulders again. “That didn’t take long,” he mumbled as he hit the key-fob and unlocked the doors of his Chevy Tahoe. 

In the post-rush-hour evening traffic, the thirty mile drive from Austin-Bergstrom International to Cedar Park took a little over forty minutes. Jensen was ten minutes from home when he realized that he hadn’t even turned on the radio.

His mind was so full of thoughts that it was hard to focus on much more than the destination and the road before him. 

Turning into their neighborhood, he felt the dread settling in his stomach as he saw the correct driveway and turned in, parking his car on the right side to allow the Mercedes in the garage room to leave in the morning. He climbed out of the black SUV and grabbed his suitcase and shoulder bag from the backseat. He was, unfortunately, still wearing his uniform. The first thing he planned on doing was ditching the stiff suit.

As soon as the lock turned in the front door, loud barks sounded from inside the house. Jensen stepped inside, a smile finally finding his face as sixty-five pounds of happy dog barreled into him. 

“Hello to you too, Scooter.” He said with a laugh, setting his suitcase aside so that he could kneel down and let the dog properly greet him. The four year-old black lab treated Jensen like he always did after an overnight trip — like he’d been gone for years. “Yes, I know, I know, I love you too,” he managed in between kisses. “That’s enough, you’re gonna ruin my uniform again.” 

“Jen?”

He looked up at the nickname and saw his boyfriend standing at the entrance to the large living room. Jensen straightened and fixed his suit, before grabbing the handle of his suitcase and moving forward into the house. “Hey Jay,” he said with a soft smile. The younger man leaned down to place a kiss on the side of Jensen’s lips as soon as he was close enough. “What — not going to lick me like Scooter?”

“Not on the face,” Jared teased. “I’ve got dinner waiting in the oven. Go ahead and change while I finish it up.”

“Gladly.”

He moved to the downstairs master suite and shoved his suitcase just inside the closet, before beginning to strip from the uniform and toss it towards the dirty clothes hamper. A large part of him wanted to just crawl into bed and sleep for a week, but such laziness was always frowned upon. After pulling on an old pair of jeans and a Cowboys jersey, he walked back out across the house and stepped into the kitchen. “How has your week been?”

Jared Padalecki, youngest mayor in Cedar Park history at thirty-three, was _always_ busy. When he wasn’t handling town hall meetings or long arguments with the city council, he was holding press conferences with local news agencies and securing more funding for various city improvement projects. 

The man slept five hours a night — on a weekend. 

It was that no-nonsense-work-comes-first attitude that made it easier for Jensen to look for comfort elsewhere. Not all the time, of course. In fact… not _ever_... before Misha.

But the thought had been there. He had seen faces in the crowd and thought ‘maybe they would ‘t be so harsh and unforgiving.’

_Maybe they would care more._

Dinner was placed on the breakfast nook table and Jensen went for a couple beers in the fridge before taking his usual seat. He was dishing up his food when Jared sat down and finally answered the question.

“My current headache involves these new social media taxi services. Have you heard of ‘em?” Jensen nodded but didn’t comment, too worried about swallowing down half his beer. It didn’t matter, really, because Jared wasn’t looking for input. “Local cab companies are having a fit over the lack of business thanks to these new groups. They want to ban all of them without proper permits.”

“And?”

Jared speared a piece of asparagus on his plate and sighed. “All of the council members seem to think I automatically know the right answer because it involves newer technology and I’m a decade younger than the youngest of them.”

Jensen bristled at that — Jared was always complaining about how stuffy his colleagues were, but Jensen didn’t know any of that personally because he’d never met them. On paper, Jensen was nothing more than Jared’s _roommate_. “Well, from personal experience I would say that if cab drivers weren’t such assholes they wouldn’t lose business to this new crowd.”

“Jensen,” Jared stated with a huff, “that’s not exactly a comment I can take to the council.” _Of course not._ Jensen focused on his food and didn’t comment again until finally Jared asked, “So what has your panties in a bunch? Something happen in Boston? Don’t tell me… your favorite seafood restaurant closed down.”

Jared was a Texan through and through. He had been to ten states in his thirty-three years. Seven of which were the closest surrounding states to Texas’ border. One trip to Washington, D.C. for school, one bachelor party in Las Vegas, and one harrowing vacation to Hawaii that Jensen had begged and pleaded for him to go on.

When they had arrived home from that particular trip Jared had vowed to never step on a plane again. Like any part of what happened could be blamed on _flying_.

“Just tired. Had to fly with Ty — you know what he’s like.” Jensen held up his beer and sighed. “I’m ready for another one of these, and my bed.”

As expected, the words caused a frown to crease Jared’s brow. “Already? I’ve barely seen you in a week and you’re just going to eat my food and pass out?”

“I—”

“I think I at least deserve a blowjob after all this time apart.” Jared put another forkful of food in his mouth, apparently unaware of what he’d just said. “What?” He said after Jensen couldn’t quite look him in the eyes. “I was just joking.”

“Sure. I know.”

\---

\---

Flight to LA go ok?  
 _12:48 AM_  


**Boston:** Very bumpy. Where can I complain  
 _12:51 AM_

Hah! Good luck with that. Complaint dept is where they hold the flying pigs.  
 _12:52 AM_  


**Boston:** Explains the smell. Didnt expect to hear from you so soon. Miss my face?  
 _12:53 AM_

No. Mostly just ur dick.  
 _12:56 AM_  


Six hours and I already miss Boston.  
 _12:56 AM_  


**Boston:** It’s a great city. I grew up about thirty mins from there. Love it.  
 _12:58 AM_

Where is home now? Forgot to ask  
 _1:00 AM_  


**Boston:** Usually on airplanes. But I keep a nice shack in Burbank.  
 _1:03 AM_

 **Boston:** Ever consider molding your dick? My dildo pales in comparison.  
 _1:04 AM_

Are you fucking yourself and imagining its me?  
 _1:08 AM_  


**Boston:** Maybe?  
 _1:09 AM_

Such a needy thing. Maybe we need to move up our “date”.  
 _1:09 AM_  


**Boston:** I’d like that.  
 _1:11 AM_

I’ll see what I can do. Better sleep now. Gnight, Mish.  
 _1:14 AM_  


**Boston:** Goodngiht. Dirty dreams.  
 _1:15 AM_

As soon as Jensen set his phone down on the desk for the last time, he looked back up at the computer screen in front of him. He hadn’t been able to sleep after sex with Jared, despite being exhausted, so he had left the other man in bed and snuck into the office. The idea of texting Misha had seemed crazy at first — but not quite as ridiculous as the voice in his head that kept screaming for him to call the other man. 

Now, instead of going back to bed, he was signing onto the pilot scheduling system in hopes of finding a flight to Los Angeles that he could book.

He didn’t need the work. But then again… he never really _needed_ work. He just took on as many flights as possible so that he could avoid being home for long periods of time. 

One of the older pilots had a post on the board where he was looking to get someone to cover for him while he went to his kid's wedding. He needed someone to take on a flight to LAX with a two day rest before flying back to Austin. 

Jensen clicked through to send the man an email, hoping that the request hadn’t been filled yet.

It would mean getting to see Misha again in thirty-six hours.

That thought had _excitement_ pooling in his stomach, not to mention other emotions that he wasn’t even sure he wanted to think about. Why was he so anxious to spend time with a man he’d just met? And in a hotel bar, not less?

… Probably because that man was the polar opposite of Jared, of everything that Jensen felt held down by. 

Misha was an explorer. Jared was a homebody.

Misha was open to change and embraced the unknown.

Jared had a set schedule that he would kill someone for ruining. The man hadn’t changed a single one of his patterns in years. Not for as long as Jensen had known him.

In the end, only one fact really mattered.

Misha was everything that he wanted. And Misha wouldn’t keep him hidden away like a dirty secret.


	2. Chapter 2

_”Cabin crew, please prepare for take-off.”_

\---

\---

Standing ten feet from the luggage carousel at Los Angeles International Airport, Misha wore a crooked chauffeur’s hat and held up a white cardboard sign that read ‘Captain Hot Ass’. He had gotten more than a few weird looks because of the get-up, but that had never been something that bothered him.

His eyes flicked back up to the flat screen television that showed arrivals and departures. It’d only been two minutes since he looked and, just like the time before, the screen showed that the plane Jensen was flying had already landed.

Misha frowned, his eyes examining the streams of people flowing past him. He jumped when a hand clapped down on his shoulder from behind.

“Nice sign.”

He turned, smiling immediately when he saw emerald green eyes staring back at him. “You snuck up on me. I wanted to point and wave and yell something obnoxious.”

“That’s not obnoxious enough?” Jensen said, smiling, and pointing at the sign.

“Nah. This is pretty tame.” Misha noticed Jensen’s suitcase and motioned to the door. “We good to go? If I don’t get you out of here in less than five minutes, I will be tempted to debauch you in public. Fair warning.”

Jensen scanned the crowd and gave a small, polite wave to someone behind Misha. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.” 

When Misha looked over his shoulder he saw another similarly-uniformed man walking with two flight attendants. Something clicked in Misha’s brain. _He’s not out at work._ Suddenly he felt less cocky about the sign. He tucked it under his arm so the words faced in towards his body.

Misha nodded and lead the way out to where his Prius was parked in the short-term lot. Once Jensen’s suitcase was stashed in the backseat and they had climbed into the car, Misha looked beside him to the younger man and arched an eyebrow. “Are we secluded enough for a ‘you-look-fucking-hot-dressed-like-that’ kiss?”

Jensen licked his lips and grinned before leaning in and kissing Misha. When he broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against Misha’s. “Thanks for coming to pick me up.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry for the embarrassing sign. I tend to do a lot of stupid shit I think is funny—”

Jensen waved his hand dismissively. “No, it’s fine, really. It was cute. I’m glad you like my ass.” He kissed Misha again.

“It’s a very nice ass.” He pulled away and started the car, heading out into traffic and then onto the freeway towards home. “You sure you wouldn’t rather stay at a hotel?”

“Oh fuck, no. Trust me, I see enough of them through work.”

“So do I.”

“I see a _lot_ of shitty hotels. And I mean like, someone-got-stabbed-in-the-parking-lot shitty.” 

“I once went on a backpacking tour of Europe that meant staying in no less than thirteen different hostels in about five weeks,” Misha started, shaking a bit at the memory. “It was _terrible_ , and part of the reason why I decided to work for a travel magazine. People need to be warned.” 

They pulled to a slow crawl once in freeway traffic, and Misha reached over and laid his hand on Jensen’s thigh — stroking lightly.

Jensen laid his hand over Misha’s and squeezed it once. Misha couldn’t help but notice Jensen shift his hips in his seat.

Misha smirked. “Somebody has missed me.” Letting his hand wander, he could feel the hard ridge of Jensen’s cock in the tight uniform pants and had to bite back his own arousal. “You untuck that bad boy and I’ll stroke you off while we’re in traffic.”

Jensen looked out the window at the other cars around them. “Fuck, you have no idea how much I want that, but…”

“Oh come on. Don’t tell me that you can fly airplanes for a living, but don’t have the nerve to pull your cock out in traffic. The windows are _tinted_ , Jen.”

“I’ll have you know that driving is way more terrifying than flying.”

Misha ran his hand up and down the spot where Jensen’s cock was pressing up against his fly and smiled. “Fine. You want me to stop… I will.” He squeezed gently one more time before pulling his hand away.

Jensen grabbed Misha’s hand before he was able to place it back on the steering wheel. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“Thought you might see it my way.” He grinned. “But I’m not continuing until you whip it out.”

Jensen grinned and reached down and unbuckled his belt. “Gladly — you have no idea how awful these pants are.”

“That’s fucking blasphemy. Those pants are _amazing_.” Misha kept his eyes on traffic until he heard the all-too-familiar sound of a zipper being lowered. He waited another second before licking the palm of his hand and reaching over to wrap his hand around Jensen’s cock. “Fuck, someone really _has_ missed me.”

“Jesus, you have no idea. _Fuck_ , that feels good.”

“I usually go by Misha. And good, I’m glad.” Misha grinned at the utterly obscene noises Jensen was making. For someone who acted like he had it all together, the man sure was _receptive_.

Misha kept his eyes on the road as much as he needed to but, at the speed they were moving, that fortunately wasn’t much. Jensen tried to keep his face as straight as possible but his hitched breaths and the way his right hand was scrabbling desperately at the door were dead giveaways.

“That feel good, Jen? You like my hand on your cock?”

“Fuck, Mish, yeah.”

Misha jerked Jensen’s cock steadily, pausing now and then to swipe his thumb over the head, press the pad of his finger _ever-so-slightly_ into the slit.

“Ah, fuck, Mish, I’m gonna—” Jensen closed his eyes when he came. 

Misha let the car drive forward a dozen feet, but he could feel a few strands of hot come paint his hand. He kept stroking until Jensen’s breathing began to even out and when he finally released the other man’s cock, he brought his hand to his own mouth to lick it clean. 

He made sure Jensen saw every pass of his tongue.

“What?” Misha said, feigning offense. “I don’t want any _more_ come on my steering wheel than is necessary, thank you very much.”

Jensen threw his head back and laughed — a real, sincere, belly-deep laugh. Misha smiled as the traffic began to pick up.

\---

\---

It should have been a weird thing. He had barely known Misha for a week. _A week._ And now he was walking into the man’s house and hanging his jacket up by the door like he belonged there. He had shut his phone off because he just needed a break, and for the next forty-eight hours he wasn’t going to think about Jared at all.

Misha’s house was exactly what Jensen would have predicted. It was an absolute mish-mash of different cultures and images from all over the world. Nothing was out of place, but it had a ‘lived in’ feel that Jared and Jensen’s home never seemed to. 

“I know you appreciate it,” Jensen indicated to his uniform, “but I would really love to get out of this thing first.”

“Oh, of course. Bathroom’s through there.” He indicated over his shoulder down a hallway behind him. “You want a beer?”

“Yes, please.”

After changing into an old pair of jeans and t-shirt Jensen made his way back to the living room. He was too wired to sit — he wandered around the main room, looking at all the curios. For all the unusual items displayed around the room, it felt nothing like a museum. It was informal, comfortable. He had a flat, colorful woven basket in his hand when Misha returned carrying two beers.

“Thanks,” Jensen whispered, setting the basket down in order to grab the beer. “I like your house. It’s very… abstract.”

Misha laughed before throwing his head back to take a swig of beer. “I think you mean scattered and confused. But thank you.”

He nodded towards a medium-sized Buddha statue in the corner. “That piece seems to be the most fitting.” When he looked back at Misha, he winked. “I can’t picture a free spirit like you being anything but Buddhist.”

“Yeah, well,” Misha shrugged. “My mother is Catholic and my father is Jewish. I never really appreciated the whole concept of churches and organized religion.”

“I don’t blame you,” Jensen said. Misha sat down on a soft-looking sofa and patted the space beside him. Jensen joined him readily, but instead of sitting down, he laid out on the leftover space of the couch and laid his head on Misha’s thigh. “So, tell me something else about you. Siblings?”

“Little brother. You?”

“Older brother, little sister.”

“Sounds like a headache.”

Jensen snorted, shaking his head and staring up into Misha’s sparkling blue eyes. When he felt soft fingers carding through his hair, he knew that it wouldn’t take much more to drift off into sleep. He certainly didn’t feel wired anymore. “We were a true Texan family. I hated it, though. Hard to grow up in a household of Christian Texans when you’re gay.”

“Shit, I bet. How were they when you came out?”

“I’ll, uh… I’ll let you know when they find out.” He sighed. “They’re all in the Dallas area. I haven’t seen them in a few years. They know I live in Austin, but we had a big argument about my career choice when I left for college. So I get a card on Christmas and one for my birthday. That’s about the extent of it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Misha kept lazily running his fingers through Jensen’s hair. “My mother keeps trying to set me up with her friends’ sons.”

“Lucky bastards,” Jensen replied with a lazy smile. “Although, I’m here and they’re not so maybe _I’m_ the lucky one…”

Misha set his beer bottle on the coffee table and leaned down to kiss Jensen. He sucked playfully on Jensen’s lip and Jensen had to make a very conscious effort to put his own bottle down without spilling it. When the kiss broke, Misha ran his thumb over Jensen’s bottom lip. “I’ve been a terrible host.”

“You have?”

“I haven’t given you the proper tour of my bedroom yet.”

“Are the sheets bright orange like your curtains?”

Misha flicked his gaze over to the living room windows and the bright orange drapes. “Are you mocking my curtains, Jenny?”

“I’m not mocking them. I’m just asking if I’m going to need sunglasses when I’m in your bed.”

“You’re lucky I have such a good sense of humor, you know, to put up with so much derisive mocking.”

Jensen smiled and forced himself to sit back up. “Okay, Mish, come on. Show me this bedroom of yours.” Once he was standing he held out his hand, waiting for Misha to take it.

Instead of taking the offered hand, Misha stood up on the couch cushion and in a flash wrapped his arms around Jensen’s neck. “Piggyback ride.”

The move caught Jensen off-guard but after a grunt and a moment to adjust to the weight, he let Misha curl his legs around his waist. “Point the way.”

Misha obliged, pointing down the hallway that led to the master bedroom. 

Surprisingly — the space was nothing like Jensen expected. The eccentricities of the rest of the house stopped at the entrance to the bedroom. The walls were painted a soft shade of gray except for a blue chevron pattern embellished on the wall behind the bed. The sheets matched the wall color and were folded back perfectly like the place had been professionally cleaned and styled. The bed, two nightstands, and a large dresser were all made out of what looked to be a rich cherry wood. 

If Jensen had to pick out his own perfect bedroom — it wouldn’t be far off from what Misha had designed for himself.

“I like it,” he whispered, moving over to the bed and dumping the older man onto it.

“ _Oof,_ ” Misha said as he landed on the bed. “I can get the orange sheets out from the linen closet if you like.”

Jensen crawled onto the bed after him, framing Misha’s body with his arms. “Mmm,” he said, dipping his head down to capture Misha’s lips with his own. “Maybe after.”

“Good plan.” Misha wrapped his arms around Jensen’s back, pulling the younger man firmly against him. 

As Jensen kissed him deeper, licking into his mouth, he could feel Misha’s cock growing hard in his jeans. He put his hand between them, squeezing Misha’s length through his pants. 

Misha bucked up into the touch, grunting. “I understand what you mean now about terrible pants.” He hastily unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his thighs, all the while remaining attached at the mouth to Jensen as much as he could.

With Misha’s pants off, Jensen broke the kiss to lose his own, and to strip his and Misha’s shirt as well. Both naked, Jensen resumed his position above Misha but soon found himself sliding further and further downward. He took his time, mouthing wet kisses into Misha’s tan skin, and when Misha’s cock was finally in front of his face it was straining hard, a thick bead of precome slowly dribbling out of the slit. 

Jensen licked at it once before Misha was tapping his side, trying to get his attention. “Is that… is this not okay?”

“Turn around,” Misha said, his voice low and already sounding wrecked. “I want you up here.”

_Up there?_ Jensen wondered for a moment, before what Misha had in mind occurred to him. _Oh._ It was no surprise that it had taken him a moment to register the request. Jared had a strict set of rules — no flying, no bottoming, no public displays of affection — but one of his all time no-no’s was ‘no rimming.’ Jensen hadn’t had someone offer that since his first boyfriend in freshman year of college. He turned his body around, carefully swinging a knee on the other side of Misha’s head. Misha flattened his hands against the front of Jensen’s thighs once he scooted down the bed a little.

Jensen, his skin tingling with anticipation — but not wanting to appear impatient — lowered his head to Misha’s cock again. He’d just began sucking again when he felt Misha gently spread his cheeks, kissing along and up the insides of his thighs. When Misha’s tongue swiped over his hole, Jensen started at the sensation, his hips bucking forward.

“Hey,” Misha said, his voice soft and crooning, “I got you.” He alternated between circling his tongue around Jensen’s entrance and just sucking, sloppy and wet. 

Jensen tried his best to remain focused on his own task. The moans that he couldn’t keep at bay came out as a near-constant humming around Misha’s cock — which served only to egg the other man on. He ran his hands along the taut muscles of Misha’s legs as he bobbed his head up and down his cock, bringing one hand up to fondle Misha’s balls. 

“Christ, Jen, you’re amazing,” Misha said. His voice already sounded wrecked. “I want — I want to fuck you.”

Jensen paused. He and Jared never switched — but not for Jensen’s lack of trying. Topping Misha had been a wonderful novelty — maybe this would be too.

“Fuck yes, please,” he said, pulling off Misha’s cock just long enough to form words. He felt Misha shift behind him, and when he glanced back, saw the man fumbling in the night table drawer long enough to retrieve a bottle of lube and a condom. Soon after, his mouth returned to Jensen’s ass, but this time it was alongside a slicked-up finger.

The burn was good, and not entirely unwelcome. Jensen pulled off Misha’s cock again as the other man began working his finger in and out of Jensen’s ass, eventually adding a second. Jensen rested his forehead against Misha’s thigh, enjoying the hot weight of Misha’s cock against his cheek. Although conscious that he wanted to be entirely present to that moment, Jensen couldn’t help but think how Jared would tell him to keep sucking. It was pretty obvious, however, that Misha was still having a fabulous time.

“You’re so _tight,_ ” Misha marvelled aloud. “Are you ready for me, or do you want me to keep going here?”

Jensen considered. Misha wasn’t the biggest — he wasn’t as thick as Jared — but Jensen wanted to _feel it._ “I’m ready.” He reached his hand back. “Give me the condom.” The foil packet was placed into his hand, and he ripped it open, sliding the latex down Misha’s length. “How do you want me?”

“That’s a very dangerous question to ask me,” Misha practically growled back at him. Glancing over his shoulder, Jensen caught the glint in Misha’s eye. The older man slapped lightly on Jensen’s asscheek. “Slide down, facing the way you are, and ride me.”

Jensen lifted his hips and shuffled forwards, bracing his hands on Misha’s knees. He adjusted himself so he could feel the tip of Misha’s cock against his hole and he slowly lowered himself down. There was a burn with the initial breach — Jensen hadn’t quite let himself be prepped enough — but it was a good one. He felt Misha’s hands flat on his lower back, and they weren’t insistent or impatient.

The beauty of the position was that Jensen was still in control despite bottoming. He could set the pace, timing each movement to run perfectly along his prostate. As he slid slowly up and down Misha’s cock, he wondered if that was the reasoning behind Misha suggesting that position.

As he was beginning to gain a rhythm, he felt Misha’s chest press up against his back as one arm wrapped around his waist and reached down to fondle his balls. “You look so hot riding my cock,” Misha groaned, placing soft kisses on Jensen’s shoulder.

Jensen craned his head back to press a kiss to the side of Misha’s head as he grabbed the man’s free hand and placed it on his chest. Misha got the cue and held Jensen tight against him, the line of Misha’s body hot against Jensen’s back.

“I need—” Jensen started, his cock straining and leaking against his stomach.

“Shh, I got ya,” Misha whispered. A second later his hand was moving up and wrapping firmly around Jensen’s cock, stroking at the same pace as every shift of his hips. “You going to come on my cock, Jen?”

“Oh fuck yes, _please_.” Jensen lowered himself up and down on Misha’s cock faster, every movement simultaneously filling him up and driving his own cock into Misha’s fist.

Misha bit lightly on Jensen’s shoulder as his other hand moved down and squeezed Jensen’s balls again — one finger pressing behind them and finding the spot where Misha’s cock entered Jensen’s hole. “Come on, then.”

Jensen’s pace — and Misha’s with it — grew frantic as he chased the heat pooling low in his gut. It was like he could feel Misha’s fingers touching every inch of him, his breath hot and wet on the back of Jensen’s neck and with a shout he was coming on his stomach and Misha’s hand.

“Fuck,” Misha gasped against his neck. “Fuck you’re so good.”

Jensen could feel Misha’s movements stuttering as he came hard. “Me?” He snorted, resting his head back on Misha’s shoulder. “ _You_ are fucking amazing.” He reached a hand back, finding the back of Misha’s head and holding it close, wanting this beautiful man as close to him as possible, wanting to feel every quiver and shake.

Slowly, Misha leaned back and rolled them both so that they were laying on their sides, still joined together despite Misha’s softening cock. “Just stay here for a few minutes. I just want to hold you.”

\---

\---

Misha was smiling when he turned to look at the man beside him. “Have you ever wanted to run away?”

It ranked up there as one of the oddest post-sex questions he had ever been asked. He laid his head so that he was looking directly at Misha. “I’m a professional pilot. I get on a plane every week and try to run away.”

“Would you want to run away with me?”

“I guess it would depend on where you wanted to run to.”

“Thailand.” Misha smiled. “Chiang Mai, Thailand, to be exact.”

“That’s…” he frowned. “Rather specific.”

“I leave in two weeks. I’m doing a month there working on a feature on the various temples in Thailand.”

_A month. A month in Thailand with Misha._ Why was it so damn tempting to say yes without contemplating the important details? A month without Jared nagging at him to have lackluster sex. A month where he could openly admit to anyone that asked that he was gay and very proud of that fact.

A month without hiding.

Jensen sat up, resting his back against the headboard and pulling his knees up against his chest. “Misha, I have a boyfriend.” He cringed at the title, even if that was technically what they were. Because he and Jared _were_ dating. They had been dating for ten years. 

It was just that no one outside the walls of their house knew that they were together.

“Is that a no?”

He frowned and turned to stare at Misha in shock. “It doesn’t bother you that I’m technically in a relationship with another man?”

“Does it bother you?” Misha questioned, sitting up as well and crossing his legs in front of him.

_Not as much as it should._

Misha looked like a first grader and Jensen couldn’t help but find it adorable. He shook away the thoughts of how cute Misha was and looked down at his hands. “It’s not a very good relationship. He’s the mayor of our town… and it’s not like a mayor in Texas can publicly come out as gay.”

“Jensen,” Misha said, leaning forward and placing a hand on Jensen’s blanket-covered knee. “I’m not asking you to commit to anything with me, I’m just saying — I like you. I want to be with you and spend time with you. Everything else is just…” he shrugged, “...life.” He flapped his hand dismissively. “Details.”

Jensen waited a moment before nodding. Considering the fact that he was already dreading going home after three hours with Misha, he couldn’t imagine what it’d be like after a month. He would probably be a different person.

He might even be ready to say goodbye to Jared. 

“I have a crapload of reserve hours set aside. Vacation time that I always avoid taking because Jared doesn’t like to leave Texas. I don’t see why a month’s leave would be too much to ask for.”

“I leave in two weeks,” he said again.

“You’d really want to spend a month with me?”

Misha closed the space between them, one hand cradling the back of Jensen’s head. “You’re sexy, and _fascinating_ and I think a month with you would just barely scratch the surface.”

The words had a shiver sliding down his spine. He leaned forward to brush a soft kiss against Misha’s lips and groaned. “Why must you talk so sweet when my dick is going to take forever to respond?”

Misha slid his hand down so he was brushing his thumb along the day-old stubble on Jensen’s jaw. “There’s plenty of interesting things we can do without you needing to get hard.”

He had a brief flash of a memory, of Jared getting upset at him for coming too quickly. Jensen shook his head and pulled away, his stomach rolling at the thought of all the anger he had seen in his boyfriend’s eyes. “I think I need a shower? Is that okay?” He was already up and out of bed, heading for the bathroom before Misha could answer.

“Of course, help yours—”

But Jensen didn’t hear anything else from the other side of the door. _What the hell am I doing?_

The panic attack happened suddenly and without enough warning. Usually he could feel them coming on based on an argument or a situation that he was forced in to. Now, however, he just felt like an idiot as he slid down the wall to sit on the floor in Misha’s bathroom and clench at his shaking fists. His fingers began to move without conscious thought. They would extend and then draw back, each moving on their own until they finally drew into a fist and pulled the muscles and tendons tight in his arm. 

He wanted to scream, but couldn’t.

He wanted to _hit something_ , but knew better.

So he sat and let the emotions take him over, trying to ride the waves of anxiety and anger.

When a soft knock sounded at the door, Jensen looked up and wasn’t sure what to do or how long he’d been in there. It simultaneously felt like hours and mere minutes.

“Jensen? I don’t… I don’t want to bother you, but you’ve been in there forty minutes and the water still isn’t running. Are you okay?”

A weak groan slipped past his lips. He wanted to be okay but he couldn’t calm his hands. 

Misha didn’t receive an answer, and apparently that was good enough cause to open the door and step inside the bathroom. When he noticed Jensen sitting on the floor, worry crossed his face and he knelt down closer. “What’s wrong? You’re pale and look like you’re going to be sick.” 

Jensen went to curl his fist in his shirt when he suddenly realized that he was still naked. _Shit._ “Panic… attack.”

“Oh. _Oh!_ ” Misha stared at him for another second before standing and moving across the bathroom in a rush. Jensen’s eyes tracked the movements and he suddenly noticed a large clawfoot tub in one corner of the room. Misha leaned over it in order to start the water running. “It’s been my experience that nothing helps a panic attack faster than a relaxing bath.” 

Misha shoved the lounge pants he wore off of his body and kicked them aside, before moving back to Jensen and holding out his hands. “Come on. We’re going to soak until you feel calm enough to tell me what happened.”

He stared at Misha like he’d lost his mind.

Every single panic attack of Jensen’s that Jared had witnessed had lead into an argument about how Jensen just wanted attention. 

But Misha was _worried_ about him.

Once the tub was filled with enough water, Misha climbed carefully inside before motioning for Jensen to do the same. When he settled his back against Misha’s chest, he couldn’t help but whisper, “Did you buy this tub because it fits two grown men?”

“Well… _duh._ ”

They sat in silence as Misha brushed a soapy sponge carefully along Jensen’s body. When he finally felt the anxiety melting away, Jensen completely relaxed back and sighed. “I had a memory of a bad argument. Set the panic attack off.”

“I got one in the middle of a business meeting once,” Misha mused. “Went from seeking advice with a board of directors to sweating bullets and crying in the men’s room. It was terrible.”

Jensen turned his head and smiled at Misha. “You cry a lot.”

“So?”

“I find that endearing.”

\---

\---

It was remarkably easy to make the trip happen. Jensen gave Jared a bullshit excuse about the European branch of the airline being short on pilots and needing help for the next few weeks. He even bragged about how awesome of an experience it would be and, in a truly panic-inducing moment, asked Jared if he’d want to join Jensen for some of the time overseas.

As predicted, fortunately, Jared rolled his eyes at Jensen’s obvious stupidity. How could the _mayor_ of Cedar Park afford to take a vacation in Europe when next year was an election year?

When Jensen climbed into his Tahoe to head to the airport, he found that the only thing he was really going to miss was the dog.

He had a larger than normal suitcase in the backseat and would be flying back to Los Angeles where he would meet up with Misha and leave early the next morning for Bangkok via Japan. 

Misha had been beyond ecstatic when Jensen mentioned that he could get them first class for the flight if they used his airline. He was just excited to experience a flight from a passenger seat.

For the next five hours, Jensen was a mess of nervous energy as he made his way back to L.A. Again, it had only been a few days, but he was missing Misha like he hadn’t seen the man in weeks. Hell, he hadn’t even known him _that_ long.

But if Misha Collins was a drug then Jensen had signed up on the express boat to addiction. But there was no way he was going to start complaining now.

When the plane finally landed at LAX, he walked to the baggage claim area and smiled when he saw dark hair and piercing blue eyes waiting for him. There was no sign this time — just a smooth smile and a warm, embracing hug.

“I had to check my bag since it’s larger than normal.” 

“That’s what she said.” Misha had a teasing twinkle in his eye as he followed Jensen to the carousel. “I got us a room just around the corner. Took a cab here so that my car can stay at home for the month. They’ve got a shuttle to the hotel, though.”

“Sounds like a plan. Excited about tomorrow?” Jensen stepped forward, spotting his large bag and pulling it off of the carousel to sit by his feet. 

Misha grinned. “More than you could possibly imagine.”

“Me too.”


	3. Chapter 3

_”Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at Suvarnabhumi Airport. Please make sure your seat belt is securely fastened. The flight attendants are currently passing through the cabin for a final compliance check and to pick up any remaining remaining personal items. Thank you.”_

\---

\---

The second Jensen stepped off the plane onto the boarding ramp he was enveloped by hot, humid air that smelled faintly of jasmine. A professional pilot of six years, he wasn’t quite sure how he’d never made it to Asia before. Even the handful of countries Jensen had visited had been twenty-four hour layovers between flights and he hadn’t typically seen much beyond a two-mile radius of the airport. Misha’s career, however, was centered around going much more than two miles from one’s airport, and so Jensen stuck close to the man.

Suvarnabhumi Airport was a chaotic throng of people, but it was nothing Jensen wasn’t used to. Going through immigration was a blur, and Jensen followed Misha to the luggage carousel and on to the taxi stand. When they finally got into a cab and piled into the back seat together. As the driver pulled away, the air conditioner came on full blast and was a welcome relief. Their driver was friendly, but spoke virtually no English. A fact that, apparently, was no big obstacle. 

“I thought you said you’d only been here once,” Jensen said, as Misha sat back in his seat after a short but animated conversation in Thai with their driver.

“I have.”

“For how long?”

Misha eye’s drifted to the ceiling of the cab, thinking. “Three… and a half weeks.”

“You learned Thai in three weeks,” Jensen deadpanned, disbelieving.

“Hardly. I can’t really say much beyond ‘hello,’ ‘thank you,’ and ‘where’s the nearest gay bar?’ The rest is mostly bullshit. I think they probably think I’m slow and take pity on me.”

Jensen snorted, looking out the window at the passing scenery. “So I take it we’re spending the night at a gay bar?”

“The seediest, dirtiest one on Khao San road,” Misha said, laying his hand on Jensen’s thigh. “Don’t tell me romance is dead.”

“You spoil me, Mish.” Jensen turned to look at his travel partner and grinned. “Keep up the teasing and your ass will be pretty sore tomorrow on the train.” He didn’t know much about where they were or where they were going, but he did know they were spending one night in the city before taking an overnight train to their final destination.

Misha surprised Jensen then by leaning over and kissing him right there in the taxi.

“Mish—” Jensen said nervously, his eyes flitting over to their still-oblivious driver.

“It’s fine,” Misha said. “Most Thais are either actually not bothered by homosexuality, or they’re economically-minded enough to recognize that gay travellers bring _a lot_ of money in.”

Coming from such a conservative state like Texas, it was hard to believe that a whole _country_ could be accepting of his sexual preferences. He gave one more nervous look at the driver, before turning to look at Misha again. “You sure?”

Misha’s hand still on Jensen’s leg, he leaned forward to get the driver’s attention. He said something in Thai to the man, before making him laugh, and reply in wavering English, “Boyfriend very handsome yes!” and grinning enthusiastically.

Jensen rolled his eyes and reached over to pinch Misha’s shoulder. “Stop talking about me in a language I don’t understand.” 

“Only if you promise to keep pinching me.”

He pinched the man again, thankful that the car was slowing and they seemed to be pulling up at a hotel. “Are we here? Because I need a Misha-break.”

“Oh really? I can leave you in Bangkok while I head up to Chiang Mai, if you like.”

Jensen glanced out the window at the busy streets and throngs of people speaking a language he’d barely even _heard_ before that day. “Nevermind. I guess I can love all parts of you.”

The driver pulled in front of a nice-looking hotel with potted palms on either side of the large glass doors. The car had barely rolled to a stop before bellhops were hauling their suitcases out of the trunk of the car and wheeling them into the lobby.

“ _Korp kun krap,_ ” Misha said to the driver, handing him a few bills for the fare, bringing his hands together and nodding slightly. “Come on,” he said to Jensen, placing his hand on the small of Jensen’s back. “Let’s go check out our room.”

\---

\---

They were in the mood for all of five minutes before Misha realized in a panic that he had left his cellphone down at the front desk. He left the room in a rush and Jensen was laughing at him being a forgetful idiot as he stepped into the bathroom and flipped the light switch on.

Except… nothing happened. He frowned, flipping the switch up and down a few times. He stepped back out into the main part of the room to check for a ‘this is a foreign bathroom and stupid Americans don’t know how to turn our lights on’ instruction sign. There was nothing.

“Nice. Big expensive place and the power in the bathroom doesn’t work.”

He peed in the dark and washed his hands before going back out to sit down on the bed and wait for Misha. When the door opened back up and Misha returned, Jensen motioned to the bathroom. “We need to call the front desk and tell them there’s a fuse blown in our bathroom. Power doesn’t work.” 

“It doesn’t?” Misha reached into the room and flipped the switch… and the light from the small room flooded out to where Jensen sat.

“Wait. What the fuck? I just stood there for two minutes trying to make that damn thing work.” He got up off the bed and walked over to where Misha was, reaching past him to flick the lights on and off a couple of times to test it. “How the hell did you make it work?”

“Clearly, I’m a witch. Also,” he said, crossing the room back to the front door, “you need to put your room card in here for the electricity to work.” He gestured to a shallow plastic compartment on the wall directly under a row of light switches.

_That_ seemed like the stupidest thing Jensen had ever heard of before. “Why?”

“I honestly have no fucking idea. But, to be fair, most Thais would probably not understand why we leave the lights or A/C on when we leave the house. Other countries are weird — it’s kind of the best part.”

Jensen shook his head at the odd concept, but let it go. A second later he noticed that Misha had returned to the room with more than just his phone. He held a bag of what looked like potato chips at first glance, but upon closer inspection Jensen realized that he had never seen _green_ potato chips. “Is that… seaweed?”

“With almonds, yes,” Misha said, crunching into a dark green chip happily. “Want one?”

“ _No._ ”

“Ya sure?”

“I’m beginning to think that I should have brought a supply of sweet tea and fried chicken to last the month.”

“Oh!”

“What?”

“You’ll be fine — you can get the best fucking fried chicken from just about any street food cart, and you haven’t lived until you’ve had Thai iced tea. It’s like sex in a cup. I recommend eating other things too, but you’ll be fine.”

Jensen stepped forward, crowding Misha back against the wall, and ran his thumb along the dark stubble on Misha’s chin. “You know I was thinking earlier about how fucking sexy it is when you speak other languages. Do you speak anything fluently other than English?”

Misha brought his arms around Jensen’s waist, pulling him in close. “Some rusty Japanese, a half-dozen Hindi film titles, and the Nepali words for ‘ass,’ ‘pubic hair’, and ‘fuck me harder.’”

He kissed the stubble and laughed softly. “Normal people learn how to say ‘where’s the restroom’ in other languages. You just learn a bunch of shit pertaining to gay sex.”

“You think knowing how to say ‘Where’s the restroom’ has nothing to do with gay sex? You really haven’t traveled much.”

“I am _not_ going with you to a glory hole.”

“I’m okay with that.” Misha’s blue eyes were holding steady Jensen’s gaze as he came in close, pulling their hips together. He didn’t kiss Jensen, just looked at him, apparently studying his face.

“Do I have a zit?” He couldn’t help but ask, wanting to pull away from the scrutinization but standing still.

“No, I’m just thinking about how much I love you.”

_What?_

Clearly Jensen had misheard the other man. “Uh… beg pardon?”

“I said… I’m thinking about how much I love you.”

“But—”

Misha rolled his eyes. “If you’re gonna give me some bullshit line about how we’ve only known each other a month and you’re in a committed relationship and I’m totally insane for loving you — well, don’t.” Misha brushed his lips over the spot just beneath Jensen’s right ear. “I’m old enough to know whether or not I love someone. I just wanted you to know.”

“I don’t…” His eyes fell to the ground as he contemplated the words. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s alright. You don’t have to say anything. That’s the beauty of it. They’re _my_ feelings.”

Jensen looked back up to deep blue eyes and confessed without thinking, “Jared’s never told me he loves me.”

“That’s… that’s so sad. I’m sorry.”

He was _not_ going to cry. He’d been dealing with Jared’s bullshit for ten fucking years — now was not the time to let the pain take over. “Yeah,” he whispered, pulling back.

“Hey!” Misha said, clapping Jensen on the shoulder and walking to the table where he’d left his wallet. “I don’t know about you, but I’m in the mood for ‘ice cream coffee roulette.’”

“Do I even want to know what that is?”

“You do, because it is almost always delicious.”

He frowned. “ _Almost?_ ”

Misha dug in his suitcase for a pair of flip flops — it was definitely too hot to keep wearing the shoes they’d traveled in. “So, the very first time I went to a McDonald’s in Thailand I ordered something off the menu called ‘ice cream coffee’ in English. It was basically an iced latté with soft serve on top and it was amazing. I ordered the same thing at another location and got a frappuccino. One time I ordered one and they gave me what I think was a dish of soft serve with hot coffee poured on top of it. Which was actually pretty good.”

Laughing, Jensen followed suit and ditched his tennis shoes. “I have no idea how I’m going to survive four weeks in this place.”

“Don’t worry,” Misha said, pulling their room key out of its slot on the wall and slipping his hand into Jensen’s, “I’ll make sure you do.”

\---

\---

The twelve hour train ride to northern Thailand was uneventful, though Jensen chalked up his not being aware of most of it to his jet lag. Chiang Mai was still a decent-sized city, but it felt incrementally calmer than the somewhat-organized chaos of Bangkok. Having not slept much on the train, Jensen and Misha spent most of their first day in the north dozing in their hotel room. It was too hot in the middle of the day to be outside for long, anyway. By the time consciousness found them both again the heat of the day was waning and both their stomachs were growling.

“We’ll hit up the first temple for my article tomorrow,” Misha said, digging through his bag for the lightest shirt he could find. “But for now,” he held up a brightly-colored and flamingo-covered monstrosity before shrugging it over his tanned shoulders, “how about a wander?”

Jensen agreed, and they hit up an open-air noodle restaurant half a block away from their hotel. “How can you eat boiling hot soup in weather like this?” Jensen asked, bewildered.

“You get used to it,” Misha said between slurps. “And besides — the price is right. Our whole meal cost less than $1.50. For the both of us.”

After the admittedly delicious noodle soup, the pair chose street after street to wander down — roughly away from the center of town. They said little walking through the pre-dusk, Jensen preferring to absorb all the sights and sounds and smells of a place wholly unlike any he’d ever been before. He barely even noticed when Misha’s hand slipped into his.

After nearly an hour of not following any direction they found themselves on the top of a mostly empty grassy hill. It looked to be some sort of park, with practical benches and decorative plaster animal statues. It was also almost entirely deserted.

Instead of going for a park bench, Misha pulled Jensen over to a clear spot in the grass and sat down — not hesitating to pull Jensen down to sit between his legs. When Jensen was settled, with Misha pressed up against his back and resting his chin on Jensen’s shoulder, Jensen looked out and immediately realized why Misha had picked that spot. 

It had the perfect view of the sun beginning to dip down below the horizon. 

“Wow.”

“I came here before, when I was in Chiang Mai the last time. But I didn’t have anyone to share it with.”

“This exact hill? What happened to meandering?”

“I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find it again.” Misha clasped his hands together against Jensen’s stomach. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Somehow,” Jensen said, craning his head back for a kiss, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

\---

\---

“If you think I’m eating anything you randomly shove in my face, you’re fucking insane.” Jensen stood in the middle of a busy market and stared at the odd fried _something_ that Misha was trying to convince him to eat. It definitely wasn’t a normal animal — judging by the odd antennae-like things poking out of the breading.

“I’ll eat one if you eat one.” He waved the thing-on-a-stick in Jensen’s face.

“That doesn’t make me want to eat it any more.” Jensen turned to glance around the market. “Where’s the fried chicken stand? Do they have fried twinkies here?”

“I don’t know,” Misha said. He put the fried thing into his mouth, freeing a hand to reach into his pocket and stuff a wad of small bills into Jensen’s hand. “Go find out.”

Panic crossed his face as he looked from the money, to the crowds. “I don’t — I can’t—”

But Misha was already gone, kneeling in front of a haggard-looking old woman selling woven bracelets out of a basket on the sidewalk.

Jensen stuffed the money in his pocket and recited a mental mantra of ‘you can do this’ as he took a deep breath and began to walk through the people to browse the selections of food items. The smells of the market were overwhelming, to say the least, and made it damn near impossible to follow his nose to something he recognized. 

He was onto the next aisle before he realized that finding something he dared to try was going to be impossible. On top of that, there were no prices. No signs. Just people and tables covered in goods. 

He stopped suddenly, spotting a vendor selling thin silver chains and various charms to adorn them. His fingers brushed over one of the small Buddha charms.

“ _Sawasdee kaa,_ ” came an older woman’s voice. “That one very beautiful. Your wife like very much.”

“Boyfriend,” he replied softly. When he looked up and she wasn’t glaring in disgust, he picked up the small Buddha charm and a chain that looked long enough to be a necklace. Then he spotted it — in one of the smaller trays of odd charms, was a tiny metal airplane. He smiled, reaching for that charm as well as a second chain. “How much?”

“For you,” the woman said, smiling, “only one hundred fifty baht. Very good price. Your boyfriend like — here I can give you other one matching, only two hundred twenty baht together.”

Jensen shook his head. “I want these ones. No need for more.”

“One-fifty one, other one-twenty. You give two-seventy baht.”

“Too much,” he answered, going to put them back. “I only have one-seventy-five.”

“Oh, I can give for two-fifty only.” The woman began straightening the other side of her display.

It was nice to see that haggling was a universal concept. Jensen shrugged. “I guess I’ll have to find something else then.” He placed everything gently back where he’d picked them up from.

“Okay, you take for two hundred baht, okay?” The woman’s patience appeared to be fading, but Jensen was half-sure it was just an act.

He pulled the money from his pocket to show her. “I wasn’t lying. All I have is one-seventy-five.”

“Okay,” the woman said, ducking down behind her table to produce a small red plastic bag and tissue paper. “You give one-seventy-five, is okay. Just for you.”

Jensen smiled, “Thank you, ma’am,” he offered, southern charm coming out in full. He let her bag up the items before passing across the money that they had agreed on. 

He felt a soft pressure behind him as two arms circled around his middle. Misha held his left wrist in Jensen’s field of vision — displaying no less than a dozen brightly-colored braided grass bracelets. “You starting your own market stall?”

“Which ones do you want?” Misha asked, kissing the side of Jensen’s face.

Jensen laughed and shook his head. “I have no fucking idea.”

“You can pick later, but you still have to pick.” He took Jensen by the hand and began leading him away. 

Jensen waved good-bye at the woman he’d bought the necklaces from, and she winked at him.

“Come on,” Misha said, “let’s find you some fried chicken.”

\---

\---

Jensen had beads of sweat on his forehead and chest as his toes curled. Misha was riding his cock at a punishing pace and it only took a few excruciatingly slow shifts of his hips, for Jensen to feel insane. “You’re killing me, Mish,” he gasped, hands tugging restlessly at the ties holding his wrists above his head.

“Really?” Misha said, dragging his nails down Jensen’s chest — and Jensen could swear he let a nail catch on his nipple on _purpose_ — “Because it seems to me you’re having a hell of a good time.”

He groaned and wanted to buck his hips up and force himself deeper into the tight heat surrounding his cock, but the last time he’d made the same move Misha had slowed his pace even more. “Please,” he begged.

“Please _what,_ Jen?” A bead of sweat rolled down Misha’s chest, disappearing in the dark thatch of hair at the base of his leaking cock. “Tell me what you want.”

“ _Everything._ ” Jensen managed. “Faster. Harder. Oh God, please do that thing with your tongue and my nipples again.”

“What thing?” Misha said, a look of affected confusion plastered across his face. He leaned forward — Jensen buried deep inside him — and placed a wet, open-mouthed kiss to Jensen’s chest. He let his lips trail downwards, teeth scraping against skin, until he found Jensen’s nipple and closed his teeth around it. Jensen hissed, but he let the breath out slowly as Misha soothed the bite with swift, teasing strokes of his tongue.

His hips jerked up despite his best efforts to prevent it — he couldn’t help it when there seemed to be a direct line of arousal between his nipples and his dick. Misha moved over to the neglected nipple and Jensen pulled so hard at the ties that he knew he was going to have bruises on his wrists. “Shit, I can’t— I’m so fucking close, Mish.”

“Then come for me, Jen.” He looked up from Jensen’s chest, and straight into his eyes. “Come in my ass.”

_That_ had to be one of the hottest things he’d ever heard. Jensen folded his legs and planted his feet flat on the bed. It gave him the perfect amount of leverage (even without his hands) to slam his hips up repeatedly into Misha’s ass. Four swift moves later and he was crying out as he buried himself deep one last time and came.

Misha sat up, arching his back and grinding his hips down against Jensen’s thrusts. He brought his hand to his cock and began jerking it but he barely touched himself before he was coming against his own stomach.

Jensen forced his eyes to stay open the entire time so that he could admire the beauty of Misha losing it. Once the other man came, Jensen tugged at his restraints again, wanting so badly to wipe the come from Misha’s skin and suck it into his mouth. “Let me taste,” he begged, his voice raspy.

Misha took his time easing himself off Jensen’s softening cock, but when he did he walked himself forward on his knees and leaned down so that his come-splattered stomach was in proximity to Jensen’s face.

Raising up, Jensen held Misha’s gaze as he thrust his tongue forward and slowly licked along tan skin to collect all of the come. 

Misha braced himself on the wall behind the bed, leaning into each lick and suck. When he was done, Misha shuffled back, kissing the taste of himself out of Jensen’s mouth. He reached up without looking to untie Jensen’s hands, and rubbed at his wrists when they’d been freed.

Despite the ache in his shoulders from pulling on his restraints, Jensen took the newfound freedom and ran with it. He hooked his arms under Misha’s and placed his hands flat on Misha’s back, before flipping them both over. His lips never left Misha’s as he laid the other man out on the bed and hovered over him.

Misha kissed hungrily into Jensen’s mouth and it was like the man hadn’t just come his brains out. 

He broke the kiss only when something else started nagging at his attention. Pulling back, Jensen nibbled at Misha’s chin and groaned. “I wanna keep this going, but wearing a sticky condom is the most annoying shit I’ve ever felt.”

“Then get rid of it, and come back here and make out with me till we get hungry enough to want to put pants on.”

“Back in a jif,” he whispered, pulling back and heading into the bathroom. He ditched the condom and wiped his cock clean with a washcloth before heading back into the bedroom. When his eyes caught sight of six feet of tanned skin stretched out on the bed, he froze. “Fuck. That is… you are so fucking _hot._ ” He moved a step to his left to grab his cellphone. “Please let me take a picture of—” he motioned at Misha, “all of that.”

Misha grinned, and Jensen could swear he was practically _preening_ under the praise.

He opened the camera application on his phone and moved around to get the perfect angle. Once he’d taken a few pictures, he smirked. “Roll over. I want an ass shot as well. This is like… prime jerk-off material for the rest of my life.”

“I will take the place of honor in your spank-bank with pride. But only,” Misha said as he flipped onto his stomach, “if you let me take some of you, too.”

Jensen took the shot of Misha’s back and ass and groaned. “Will you get up on your hands and knees and hold the headboard? Maybe separate your legs enough to show off that recently fucked asshole?”

Misha did just that, but he went so far as to dip a finger into his still-stretched hole as well.

“Shit,” Jensen whispered, feeling his cock beginning to respond as he zoomed in on that particular photo. “I’m never going to be able to let anyone touch my phone again.”

“I’m starting to wonder,” Misha said, now teasing his asshole with two fingers, “why the fuck are you all the way over there?”

He took one final shot, before putting his phone away and grabbing another condom. He wasn’t far off from being ready for round two, but before that happened he had one other plan.

Climbing on the bed behind Misha, he didn’t give any warning before he ducked down and circled his tongue around the other man’s hole. “Mmm.”

“Oh holy fucking Christ, Jensen,” Misha babbled. 

Jensen could feel the older man quivering slightly under his touch.

“We’re — we’re not going for dinner anytime soon, are we?”

Jensen lifted his head briefly to speak over Misha’s back. “Not a fucking chance.”

\---

\---

Misha paused at the bottom of the one-hundred-and-eight steps up to the temple at Wat Doi Suthep, urging Jensen to get a head start without him. His excuse, of course, was that he needed to take some pictures for his article. It didn’t hurt that he also got an excellent view of Jensen’s ass as he ascended the stairs.

Midway up the steps, Jensen stopped and turned back to look at Misha. Instead of yelling to ask the man what was taking so long, Jensen held out his arms in a ‘are you coming or not’ fashion. 

Misha lowered his camera, letting it hang from the strap around his neck, and hurried after his lover.

_Lover?_

Misha frowned, turning the word over in his head. It had been a long time since he’d had anyone in his life he’d felt was worth hanging onto.

Like every other moment they had experienced so far in Thailand, Jensen seemed to be soaking in the atmosphere of the temple. Misha knew what that was like. He had spent almost an entire day there the last time he’d visited. It was more than a spiritual experience — it was an awe-inspiring moment that would remain with him forever. Changing a person just slightly towards the better. 

Once he stood next to Jensen, he tucked his hand into the other man’s and gave it a gentle squeeze as they shared a smile. “I’m glad you’re here,” Misha whispered.

“Me too,” Jensen said. “This place is... I’m not sure there are any words.”

“There really aren’t.” They climbed the rest of the staircase hand-in-hand, and once they passed through the gate Misha showed Jensen where to slip off their shoes and buy incense to light and leave as an offering. They entered another set of gates into the inner courtyard, and approached the main hub of the temple. As they circumnavigated the golden structure the traditional three times, lit incense and prayer candles in hand, Misha found himself wishing for nothing more than to hold onto Jensen after they left Thailand. A small, practical part of his brain wanted to tell him that it was a pipe dream — Jensen was _with_ someone, and had been for ten years.

But Misha wasn’t terribly worried.

They’d spent almost every waking hour together for two and a half weeks — and Jensen had barely mentioned his boyfriend at all.

\---

\---

Despite the fact that he flew at thirty-five thousand feet for a living — Jensen was not a fan of heights. Still, when they settled on the train and the moment came to man up and volunteer to take the top bunk so that Misha could get some work done on his laptop, he didn’t say a word as he stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers and climbed the half-ladder up onto the bed.

He pulled the thin blue “privacy curtain” closed as he settled back against the thin mattress that was slightly more comfortable than it appeared. Left with his thoughts and the consistent click-clack of the train, Jensen wasn’t surprised that it was Jared’s face that appeared when his eyes closed. 

But it wasn’t regret or guilt that tugged at him on the inside. It was calculated thoughts about what the next step was. Where did he go next when he wanted to be with Misha but was still tied to Jared? Hell, his whole life was wrapped up in Jared Padalecki’s world. His home, his belongings, his _dog._

How did he walk away from that? How could his feelings for Misha be so strong that he even _wanted_ to walk away?

He was deep in thought when he heard the soft click of Misha’s laptop closing. The older man probably assumed that Jensen was asleep as he quietly shuffled around and settled in his own bunk. Jensen tried turning on his right side, and then onto his left. 

It felt like ages, but Jensen knew it was only a few minutes before he was climbing off of the top bunk, almost tripping on a duffle bag that hadn’t fit under the bottom bunk. He tapped at the edge of Misha’s bed and asked softly, “Can I lay with you?”

The curtain opened, and Misha’s face appeared. “Of course,” he said, drawing the curtain open wider and shuffling back to make room. “But bring your pillow — they kind of suck on their own.” If any of the train’s crew or other travelers thought it strange that two six-foot-something men cram themselves into one bunk, no one said anything.

Once Jensen was laying next to-slash-half on Misha, he finally started to relax. He pulled the curtain closed behind him before snuggling closer and pushing his hand beneath Misha’s shirt. The feeling of warm skin and a soft heartbeat calmed him down even more. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Misha lifted his arm, draping it around Jensen’s back, allowing him to curl in closer. The space was incredibly tight for two people, but neither of them complained.

“For what?” Misha asked.

“Loving me as much as I love you.”


	4. Chapter 4

_”Ladies and gentleman, we have safely landed at Austin-Bergstrom International. Local time is 6:47 p.m. and the ambient temperature is sixty-two degrees … On behalf of your flight crew, we’d like to thank you for flying with us today and we look forward to seeing you on your next trip with Aria Airlines.”_

\---

\---

Walking away from Misha at LAX was one of the hardest things Jensen had ever done in his life. He had walked away from his own family ten years before and even _that_ had been easier than leaving Misha in Los Angeles. Jensen hadn’t expected to feel so strongly about the other man after only two months. Part of him had anticipated getting bored and wanting to leave Thailand long before the four weeks were up.

But the fact remained that he was in love with Misha and nothing was going to convince his heart otherwise.

There was just one big ugly problem: he had also expected Misha to provide him with some kind of answer. A next step or at least an idea of one. 

He wanted someone to beg him to stay for the first time in his life. To scream and argue that _‘Texas has nothing left for you, Jensen.’_

But Misha had merely shaken his hand and promised to talk to him soon. 

It wasn’t Misha’s fault that Jensen had gotten so used to public displays of affection in Thailand and then felt _betrayed_ when all he got was a handshake back in the States. Jensen had been the one to implement the ‘no-touching’ rule once they were on home soil again.

But it was just another thing he wanted Misha to fight him on.

He was bubbling with anxiety and frustration as he walked through the airport back in Austin. A few work colleagues had noticed him and mentioned how good it was to see him back. He couldn’t even manage a smile in reply. 

His hand moved up to clutch the Buddha charm around his neck. He had presented Misha with the airplane necklace two days before they left Chiang Mai. _’I wanted something special that we could each wear and know… and know how much it meant. How much we mean to each other.’_

“Jensen!”

Just beyond the security gates he heard his name being called. He frowned, immediately looking up and trying to figure out who was yelling for him. It didn’t take much effort.

Jared always did stand out in a crowd.

“ _Jay?_ ” He walked towards his boyfriend even as he tucked the charm beneath his shirt and dropped his hand. Jared had _never_ met him at the airport. Why would he? That was a type of moment shared between two people that could publicly display their love for each other.

His boyfriend finally reached him and wrapped his arms tightly around Jensen in a bear hug. “God, I’ve missed you,” Jared whispered.

For the first time in two months, Jensen felt guilt blooming icily in his chest and he felt like he might throw up. He slowly reached up to hug Jared back. “What are you doing here, Jay?”

Jared pulled back and grinned, hazel eyes twinkling and dimples showing. “I haven’t seen you in four weeks — I thought it’d be special if I showed up to surprise you. Of course it would have been easier if I knew exactly what flight you were on. I had to call in a favor with your buddy Ty.”

A part of Jensen was still panicking from being caught off-guard by Jared. He wasn’t ready to see him, not quite yet. The hug was okay, but anything more? He needed to sort his head out. At least he didn’t need to worry about anything else happening in public. Surprise airport pickup aside, some things he knew would never change. 

Jensen quickly shook his head as Jared turned them and kept his arm over Jensen’s shoulders while they walked to baggage claim. “I’m not sure I want to know why that man is keeping track of my flight plans.”

“Yeah, about that... ” They had only walked a few feet, but Jared stopped them and turned Jensen to face him again. “I want to hear more about it in the car but, Jen, if you needed a vacation, all you had to do was say so. Ty said he’d never heard of any program with extra flights in Europe, and that you had taken a leave with your stored up vacation time.” Jared’s thumb brushed over the hair behind Jensen’s ear. It was a subtle touch — one that most people wouldn’t question — but Jensen could feel the electricity hitting his skin. Jared continued, “I know that my fear of flying makes it hard on you, but I would have supported you going somewhere for some down time.”

“I just…” he shrugged. His story had been half-exposed, and he felt disoriented, scrambling to answer carefully. There were definitely some things that he was not ready to come clean about. “It’s been so busy that a few weeks off seemed like a good idea. But I didn’t want you to feel obligated to take time off too. You know, with the election coming up next year and all…”

Jared pulled him in for another hug. This time, when his lips grazed Jensen’s ear, they whispered, “I love you. I’m so glad you’re home.”

\---

\---

The drive back to Cedar Park was filled with discussions about the current goings-on at city council. Jared spent a few minutes asking about Jensen’s vacation, but Jensen couldn’t find the strength to figure out how to talk about Thailand and didn’t want to lie.

Memories of Thailand would forever include Misha’s face.

When they got home, Jensen had to spend a whole ten minutes getting slobbered on by the dog before they could eat dinner and settle down for the night. Jetlag was hitting him hard, and as he sat on the sofa with a bottle of beer watching Jared walk towards him with _that_ look, he prayed that the other man wouldn’t expect much.

He hated the idea of Misha’s name slipping off his tongue while Jared fucked him, but it seemed like a very real possibility.

Jared stopped in front of him and held out a hand. “Come on. I know you must be exhausted, so I thought we’d turn in early. I could always use a few extra hours cuddled up with you.”

Jensen was still hesitant, but he set his beer down and allowed Jared to drag him towards the master bedroom downstairs. Once his feet hit the plush carpet, Jared began efficiently stripping them both of their clothes. He stopped when he got to Jensen’s boxer-briefs though, and motioned to the bed.

Apparently the confusion was written all over Jensen’s face. Jared shook his head and chuckled. “I’d love to make love to you tonight, Jen, but it’s not worth it if you’re so tired you can’t even keep an erection. So I’ll just hold you until you’re all rested up, and then tomorrow — I took the day off and we can spend as much time in bed as we want.”

Whatever had happened in the past four weeks… had turned Jared into a completely new person. Jensen snuggled into his side of the bed and wondered why it had to happen after Misha stepped into his life.

\---

\---

The next day when they finally did have sex, Jared positioned Jensen on his back and refused to come until Jensen was a bubbling mess from his own orgasm. It was one of the most intense experiences they had ever shared together.

It was enough to make him hopeful that that things had changed. Jared was… sweet. He got up early and made breakfast for Jensen. Brushed his hands through his hair when they watched tv in the evening. Made Jensen feel cherished. Things were different enough that he even found himself not minding so much that Misha hadn’t texted him once.

Then the other shoe dropped. 

The next morning, after waking up at the blessedly reasonable hour of nine a.m., Jensen got up and pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, before walking through the house to the kitchen. There were voices coming from the room and, when he passed the threshold, he noticed Jared sitting at the breakfast nook next to Genevieve Cortese, his long-time assistant. 

Gen looked up to offer Jensen a smile, but it wasn’t enough to calm the burning in his chest. Throughout his relationship with Jared, whenever details about Jared’s sexuality — pesky details such as Jensen’s very existence — needed to be silenced, it was always Genevieve that stepped in. They would go out to dinner at one of Austin’s hottest restaurants and play up the part of ‘couple in love’ — making sure that pictures were taken and leaked to the local newspapers.

Genevieve got to live the life that Jensen had spent ten years longing for. If she was there at the house, it didn’t mean anything good. 

Jared’s face gave that much away. “Jen,” he started, looking up from the papers laid out in front of him. “Apparently my attempts at being sly and romantic failed.” He slid the papers across the table for Jensen to see.

They were print-outs from a local area gossip blog. Jensen looked down to see his own face staring back at him. Someone had taken a picture of the two of them walking through the airport with Jared’s arm wrapped around Jensen’s shoulders. Further down the page was another shot of the hug and Jared’s whisper.

“Some of our campaign supporters have expressed concern. If Jared’s orientation comes into play, then Glen Sandburg is going to walk away with the win practically uncontested,” Genevieve said, filling Jensen in on the details. “So… we’ve hatched a plan.”

Jared rose, moving across to where Jensen stood and ran his hand gently down Jensen’s arm. “I’m going to take Gen out tonight and propose to her. All of my supporters agree that an engagement would be big enough news to squash these rumors.”

The knife twisted in his back and Jensen pulled away, glaring daggers at his boyfriend. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

“It’s the _only_ way, Jensen! What else do you want me to do?”

He had always known that their relationship took a back seat to the role of mayor — after all, Jared had dreams of someday being President, and that wasn’t going to happen if he didn’t make sacrifices — but to have it thrown in his face so blatantly was sickening. “So I’m less important than politics? After _ten fucking years_ you want to kick me aside so you can keep this image of ‘typical straight macho Texan’ alive.”

Jared’s expression softened. “I’m not kicking you aside. Nothing between you and I will change. Genevieve can stay in a room upstairs, and you’re gone so often that you’ll hardly even realize she’s here.”

“She’s moving in with us, too?” he cried out, anger boiling over.

“Of course.”

“I’m _not_ okay with this, Jared.” Jensen stepped farther away, wishing that he had never left Los Angeles. Never left _Thailand._ “Hiding our relationship was one thing. But watching you parade around with someone else on a constant basis? Having her _live_ in our home? Living even more of a lie than before? How can you expect me to possibly be okay with this?”

Jared crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s _my_ home, Jensen.” He didn’t give Jensen a chance to speak. “And it’s my career. This is what’s important to me. I don’t know why you can claim to love me and then stand there and bitch and whine instead of supporting my future. _Our_ future, if you can stand to stay.”

The tears escaped before he’d even realized they were clouding his vision. Jensen shook his head and stepped away. “I’m going to pack a bag. I think I need to stay somewhere else for a little while.”

From her spot at the breakfast nook, Genevieve spoke up, “If people think you’ve moved out because of the engagement, it will almost definitely confirm the rumors.” 

Jensen spun to face the small woman and pointed a menacing finger at her. “Fuck your rumours. You can take Jared from me, but you can _not_ keep me prisoner here. So _fuck off._ ”

\---

\---

_”This is Misha Collins, and it seems like you’ve called my phone while I’m out of the country. Apologies. If you aren’t just desperate to talk to me, please call Schneider Publishing at…”_

Jensen ended the call and tossed his phone to the other side of the bed. He was in a hotel room in downtown Austin. He had been there for an hour and had called and texted Misha’s phone what felt like a million times. There was no response. When he wracked his brain to figure out if Misha had mentioned immediately going on another trip he couldn’t think of anything. 

Which had his rejected heart believing that Misha was giving him the brush-off. The more he thought about the handshake in the LAX terminal, the more he wondered if it had been uncaring on purpose. And Jensen hadn’t been very good at keeping in touch, either.

Maybe he was the only one affected by the time they’d spent in Thailand. Maybe Misha just hadn’t been able to find a polite way to reject Jensen directly.

He threw a hotel pillow across the room and stood up in a rush. He was going to go out of his mind if he stayed there any longer. 

Thank God for hotel bars.

\---

\---

\--- _Earlier_ \---

He probably wouldn’t have said yes to the idea on most days. Why would he give in to his competitors and sell himself just for a run at a second term?

But when Jared woke up that morning, it was to the buzzing of Jensen’s phone going off beside the bed. He tried to nudge his boyfriend awake, but the jetlag had Jensen dead to the world. So without hesitation, he reached over Jensen’s body and grabbed the phone to figure out why it was going crazy. 

There were three messages on the screen from the same person.

**Boston:** It killed me to walk away from you.  
 _6:04 AM_

**Boston:** I wanted to fuck you one more time right there in the airport. For everyone to see.  
 _6:09 AM_

**Boston:** No matter what, Jen, remember that I love you. And when you’re lonely, remember Thailand.  
 _6:17 AM_

The surge of anger was overwhelming as Jared stared at the messages. He reacted without thinking and hit the reply button.

On the flight home I had time to think - I can’t do this. Please stop messaging me. I don’t want Jay to find out.  
 _6:34 AM_  


After sending the message, he deleted the string of texts and then began searching through the phone to get some kind of idea of who this _’Boston’_ was.

It didn’t take much to find the pictures. With every naked shot of tan flesh, Jared’s temper rose. Jensen had spent _four weeks_ with another man. _His_ Jensen.

When a reply never came, Jared shut the phone off and placed it back on the bedside table. He crawled away from the man he’d called his for ten years and changed into running gear. Though he doubted it would work, he knew his head would at least be a little clearer once he ran off some aggression.

It was almost an hour later when he made it home — and Genevieve was there waiting. Her news of the rumours didn’t help matters, but her plan gave him an easy means of revenge. Jensen had always hated Genevieve and had never bothered to hide that fact. Jared agreed to her proposal without hesitation. 

So it wasn’t really a surprise when Jensen blew up as soon as he heard the idea. Jared fought back, wanted to scream about how Jensen could just run off with his new man if it was that big of an issue. The problem was — the possessive side of him didn’t want to push Jensen that far away. He wanted to make Jensen mad, but not enough so that he never came home.

When there was a knock on the door after Jensen had left, he expected it to be Jensen having forgot his house key. Ready to apologize and agree to the new arrangement. 

Instead, the man that stood on the front porch was a man that Jared had only seen naked. _Boston._ He didn’t know the guy’s real name — didn’t really fucking care to.

“Can I help you?” he growled.

The other man was unphased by the aggression. He stood his ground and glanced past Jared into the house. “I’m here to see Jensen. Is he available?”

“No.” Jared went to close the door but a large boot stopped him. He opened it far enough to glare at the intruder. “State law says I can meet any act of intrusion on my property with deadly force.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you really want to tempt me?”

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you’re going to,” Boston said, meeting Jared’s gaze. It was obvious he wasn’t going to back down.

_Mother fucker._ “Jensen isn’t here. He left for a flight three hours ago.”

“I see. Where did he fly to?”

“Fort Lauderdale. Overnight trip. Then on to Chicago.”

The other man opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a strain of music coming from his pocket. Pulling his phone out, he frowned at the screen, casting a confused and suspicious look in Jared’s direction. “Jensen?”

\---

\---

If he wasn’t three sheets to the wind, he was at least two. And a half. “I gotta know,” he slurred, “if the handshake was a…” Jensen hiccuped. “ _Write-off._ ”

“What?” Misha made his way down the steps of the fancy house he’d previously been trying to get into. “Of course it wasn’t a write-off. What are you talking about? Are you okay?”

“Didn’t hear from you,” he whispered. “Ya wouldn’t answer. Thought…” Jensen’s voice grew sadder. “Thought it was all a lie.”

_Shit._ “You didn’t get my texts?”

“Wha’ textsss?” Jensen slurred, adding an extra ‘s’ sound onto the end of his words.

“Where are you?” Misha got the distinct feeling that wherever Jensen was, it was nowhere _near_ Fort Lauderdale.

“Uhhh…” It sounded like Jensen pulled the phone away from his head as he spoke with another person in the background to ask ‘where the fuck am I?’ Misha heard someone answer ‘Four Seasons’ before Jensen’s voice came back on the line. “Think it’s Spring.”

“In Austin?”

“Duh.”

"I'll be there soon," Misha said into the phone. "Don't go anywhere, okay? I just have something to take care of here." He hung up, slipped the phone back into his pocket, and made his way back up the steps. Jared had stayed in the open door the entire time. "You were lying to me," Misha said. "So I assume you know who I am."

“Found your naked pictures on his phone this morning.” Jared still had a look of anger on his features, but his shoulders were beginning to slump in defeat. “Ten years. I’ve loved that man and given him everything I could for _ten years_ and then he goes running to you. Why?”

“You need to ask him that.”

“He’s still mine. He’ll come back to me. You’re just a phase. A blip on the radar.”

“That’s entirely possible. But what if I’m not? Are you going to be able to let him go?”

Jared shook his head. “If you think I’m just going to back down to some douchebag named _Boston_ then you’re sorely mistaken.”

_Boston?_ It took him a moment before it clicked — that was the city where they’d first met. “It’s not a matter of you backing down. Jensen’s gonna make whatever decisions he wants to make.”

Jared glared. “You have thirty seconds to get off my property before I grab the shotgun. I might not shoot to kill you, but I can definitely knock that cocky attitude down a few pegs.”

Misha raised his hands in a show of surrender as he backed down the front steps once again. “Message received loud and clear. You have a good evening, Mayor.”

\---

\---

They cut him off after five whiskey sours, so Jensen sat on the bar stool and stared at a glass of water. He didn’t know what he was waiting for. The whole phone conversation seemed vaguely like a dream. Misha was in Los Angeles — how could he be there ‘soon’? Misha hadn’t spoken to him all day. The whiskey was just playing tricks on his brain.

He was about to start crawling in the vague direction of his room when felt the weight of a familiar hand on his shoulder.

“I’d offer to buy you a drink, but it looks like you’re several steps ahead of me in that respect.”

Jensen whimpered and ducked his head even as he pushed back against the warm body behind him. “You’re… not _real._ ”

“I am, I promise.”

Arms circled around his, hands came in to cover Jensen’s own. Hands he knew.

Without hesitating, Jensen spun the bar stool around and fell against Misha. As soon as his face landed against the firm chest of the man he loved, big blubbery tears began to escape his eyes. “I thought it ended. I — I didn’t want that,” he managed.

“It doesn’t have to end as long as you don’t want it to,” Misha said. “But let’s…” his eyes darted around the moderately-populated bar, where a few people definitely were looking in their direction, “not talk about it here. Got your room key?”

“I’s in my pocket.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “You wanna feel me up to get it?”

“Always,” Misha said, his breath ghosting hot over Jensen’s ear. “But I get the feeling I’d be taking advantage of you in your vulnerable state."

“I’m not—” Jensen struggled to get the word out as Misha helped him sway to his feet. “Vulbner..vulnerb...bibble… vulner able,” he finished, separating the word into two different ones.

“Of course not,” Misha said soothingly. “All the same,” he looped an arm around Jensen’s waist, guiding Jensen’s arm across his shoulder, “why don’t you show me your room?”

\---

\---

\--- **Fourteen Months Later** \---

He went to the wedding — how could he not? It wasn’t as big of a deal as he expected, but there were still enough guests for him to hide amongst. For him to look casual in his black suit as he sat in the back row and watched the exchange of vows.

It was pretty, as far as weddings went. 

The reception took place in a separate building on the same piece of property and though he knew he should leave, he found himself following the crowds in that direction. He wanted to wish the happy couple well — even if the entire relationship made him sick.

The party was half over when the groom found him by the open bar.

“Why are you here? Lurking around like some kind of creepy stalker.”

He shrugged, finishing his drink and place the glass back down on the bar. “Just wanted to come give my blessing.”

“We don’t need your approval.”

That much was obvious. “I know, but I needed to give it. I needed you to know that I’m okay with this. That… I’m okay with you getting everything I didn’t want to give you.”

“Well thanks.” The other man turned, scanning the crowd. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to find my husband and eat some cake.”

Jared nodded, looking out to where Misha stood talking to an older woman. He wore a tux that matched the one Jensen was wearing. He looked back to find the green eyes of his former lover. “Good luck, Jen. You deserve to be loved so well for the rest of your life.”

“Thank you, Jared. I do.” Jensen leaned in to give Jared what he knew would be the last hug. Before Jensen pulled away, he whispered, “You do, too.”


	5. Chapter 5

_”This is your captain speaking… I’d like to welcome you on this Ackles Airline flight with non-stop service from Chiang Mai to Bangkok...”_

\---

\---

If asked two years ago where he ‘saw himself’ in the future — Jensen’s answer would never have been _married_ or _living in Thailand_. But now, he was both. It was crazy and he had never _been_ especially crazy until he married Misha.

Some mornings he still woke up and asked himself what he was doing there. But then he rolled over and saw the smile on Misha’s face as he slept and the beauty of it all hit him all over again. The place was everything they ever needed. The people were fantastic, the weather was hot as balls, and they were accepted for who they were by almost everyone. 

Besides that, whenever he got the urge to see the States again, it didn’t take more than a day and a whim to fly back to Los Angeles. As each month passed, though, he found that urge fading more and more. His brother and sister had gone to his wedding, but his parents hadn’t.

Chiang Mai was now home. But even more so than that — _Misha_ was home. And as long as Misha was by his side, Jensen was happy. 

He reached over to trail his fingers over Misha’s exposed skin, smiling when Misha wiggled under the touch. He’d thought the man was tan when they’d met, but that was before they’d moved to a tropical country full-time.

“Shh,” the older man whispered, even though Jensen hadn’t said a thing. “Go back to sleep. It’s going to be hotter than Satan’s taint later and I wanna enjoy the cool breeze while I can.”

“Got a charter in four hours. Can’t sleep.” He leaned over to kiss his husband on the temple. “If you wake up with me, I promise you an excellent treat in the shower.”

“If the options are blowjobs in the shower or sleeping while it’s cool, I’m gonna have to kick your beautiful ass out of bed so I can sleep.”

“What about a blowjob in a cool shower?”

The question forced Misha’s right eye to open and look at him, pondering. “Make it _sex_ in a cool shower and I’ve been up since five.”

“Deal.” Jensen winked at his husband before whipping the sheet off of them and bounding out of the bed. “Race you!”

\---

\---

After living in Thailand for almost a year, Jensen thought he had seen everything. And then Misha decided they need to go out for coffee at a ‘special’ cafe.

A small part of him was expecting a business run by ladyboys. After all, Misha had delighted in the opportunity to drag Jensen to one of their shows just a month earlier. But instead, he stepped inside the small storefront and immediately felt something furry brushing along his ankles, followed by a soft ‘meow’.

He looked down to see a pudgy orange Scottish fold cat — wearing a red neckerchief, of all things — looking up at him.

“Misha?” When he looked back up to his husband, he was met with the largest grin he’d ever seen as Misha held out a short-haired tabby. 

“It’s a _cat café_ , Jen.”

“I can see this. Did you suddenly decide I don’t make your coffee with enough cat hair?”

Misha nodded. “Yes.” He winked obnoxiously before turning to head to the counter to order them each a drink. They had been there long enough that Misha was now nearly fluent in Thai — and Jensen wasn’t that far off himself thanks to some of his regular customers on his charter.

Jensen sat himself on an over-sized floor cushion next to a small table — a table that just happened to have a slim white cat asleep on it. “Well, hello there,” he said, reaching over to scratch the dozing creature’s head. The cat yawned at the disturbance, and two different-colored eyes blinked open. It stood slowly and stretched — the thing was definitely not underfed, but still looked to be mostly legs. A quick glance to the animal’s collar read _‘Luna.’_

Misha brought over a tray with a cappuccino and small piece of chocolate cake for each of them. Luna, apparently used to being shooed off tables once food showed up, hopped onto the floor and wandered over to where some of the other cats were investigating a plastic model of the Death Star.

A piece of chocolate cake appeared in front of his face on a spoon and Jensen raised an eyebrow, giving his husband a look that clearly said ‘ _really?_ ’ as he opened his mouth and took the bite. Once he had swallowed the delicious cake, he slid closer to his husband and picked up a mug. “Can we get a puppy?”

Misha shook his head. “You know what the lady said. No new pets until the adoption is finalized and we know about allergies.”

“I know, I know. But I’m not going to let you forget — every kid should grow up with a dog.”

“I promise,” Misha said with a laugh, “that our son will have a dog to grow up with.” 

Jensen grinned at the word _son_. Their son. It was only the day before that they’d found out that the perfect candidate profile had opened up. A little three-year-old Thai boy that had lived in an orphanage most of his life was the perfect fit for their family. “I don’t know how I’m going to manage to wait three more weeks.”

\---

\---

Their son’s name was Akara.

The first time Jensen held the boy in his arms a weird sort of sensation washed over him. 

People had it wrong. Love at first sight was not strictly a romantic thing. Jensen loved his son immediately. 

The small boy seemed overwhelmed by the emotions of having _two_ new parents all for himself. He snuggled closer to Jensen, head resting in the crook of his neck. 

“ _Sawasdee krap,_ little mouse,” Misha said, smoothing a hand over the boy’s hair. “We are going to spoil you rotten.”

The boy raised his head and looked up at Misha with large chocolate brown eyes that gleamed in the light. “Da-dee,” he managed with a soft voice. 

Jensen’s heart just about jumped out of his chest at the word. From across the room, the woman from the orphanage smiled. “We were working on English. For you.”

“ _Korp kun krap,_ ” he said. “Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.” He watched her walk away to work on some more paperwork, and then glanced back down to his son. “So, Akara, are you ready to go home? Get this new life on the road?”

Akara frowned for a moment, looking between them. Finally… he smiled. “ _Home._ ” 

On the ride back to the house, Jensen sat in the backseat holding Akara’s tiny hand and thought about his life as he watched the clear skies outside the car window. He thought about what type of dog they would get and where they would go for their first family vacation. How Akara would settle into their world. What the boy would think about Disneyland and airplanes...

He was so lost in his thoughts that he missed the smile Misha sent his way. It was hard to mistake the feel of soft lips hitting his forehead though.

“I love you so much,” Misha stated. “Both of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you couldn't tell, one of the authors has spent some time in Thailand. Most of the places mentioned are real, as are many things that happened in the story. Look closely at the ending banner for a familiar feline face. ;) Yup, that cat café is a [real place](http://www.catmospherecafe.com/).
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
